


Five Years Past

by ZulantherWhitefeather



Category: The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 04:17:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 9,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2718482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ZulantherWhitefeather/pseuds/ZulantherWhitefeather
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It has been five years to the day since Erebor was reclaimed. Fili is kept busy as Thorin grooms him as the heir and Kili paves his own path. Things get interesting when Thorin sends them on what was supposed to be a simple errand. Of, course, where the two Durin brothers are concerned, nothing is ever just 'simple.' Hi, Everyone! This is my first Fanfiction ever! Please give it a shot!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Time of Peace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I unfortunately do not own the Hobbit or the LOTR. I wish I did, though!

Fili walked down the dark stone hallway which was alight with the soft glow of burning torches. His steps were slow as he took a moment to release a heavy sigh as he relished looking upon the grandeur of Erebor in person, a desire he had sheltered since before his tweens.

The mountain had been won five years ago today, and Thorin sat mightily atop his thrown as king, as was his birthright, and he, Fili, and his dear brother, lived as dwarven princes should – as they deserved to live after all they had been through to win the mountain from the accursed dragon, Smaug.

The dwarf prince continued his leisurely stroll down the many winding passageways, which even after five years in the place, his fool brother, Kili, still managed to get lost in to this day. Fili chuckled fondly at one memory in particular that came more often to his mind than his little brother could stand. 

Kili had accidentally wandered into a dwarrow lady’s chambers, and the woman was not pleased in the slightest. Fili remembered fondly how red hot his brother’s ears were as he fled the dam’s quarters, and he made sure to harass his brother about it whenever possible. 

Of course, Fili hadn’t exactly had it easy, either. These last five years had been full of strife despite the newfound peace. Rebuilding and repopulating the mountain was a monstrous nemesis, which still, after five years of hard work, was slowly coming to a close, though progress slowly trickled even still. 

Not only that, but Thorin had been very busy grooming Fili to be king one day, though Fili often wondered why Thorin would so willingly leave the throne to him, when he could still theoretically, produce an heir of his own blood, and not that of his sister, Fili’s mother, Dis.

Fili smiled, an expression that was quickly replacing many dwarves’ stern, grim, and reserved looks, as he thought on his mother. After the reclamation of Erebor, many of the dwarves from the Blue Mountains migrated to the Lonely Mountain to resettle there. Dis was among them and her embrace upon their reunion with her lingered still in his dreams like a warm salve. Some still remained at the growing settlement of Ered Luin, so the town could become a trading partner in the future – one that would certainly grow with a steady supply of wealth from Erebor.

In fact, trade was going rather well. The Iron Hills was their biggest partner thus far, though with Balin in Moria, they were becoming a close second with the most precious resource on the dwarven market- Mithril. Dale was not so large yet, and rebuilding was slow, so not much had come of them as of yet. 

Since the dragon’s scourge, Laketown had been rebuilt and the people lived in much needed prosperity compared to their old way before Smaug. The Master had died of some sickness, though people spread stories of “unfortunate food poisoning.” Fili’s face grew grim as he recalled the master, a fat, cruel man, and how he had turned his back on Kili when he was desperately ill. He only cared for the gold Thorin promised, and once Thorin had left with the rest of the Company, the men of Laketown showed nothing but animosity and disregard towards those who had remained behind.

If the Master had been poisoned, so be it. The man had deserved it.

Fili recalled how angry he had been at Thorin for choosing to leave Kili behind, and alone, nonetheless! But, if Kili had come along, he would surely have succumbed to his wounds and died. 

Fili shook those ghosts of the past with a shake of his head as he came to Thorin’s throne room. His fine dwarven boots sounded on the beautiful floor of his ancestor’s hall and his finely crafted dual swords identified him to all those who saw him as he entered, if the many blond braids and confident swaggering step did not already do so.

He looked upon Thorin with Dwalin at his right hand, and was welcomed by a nod from Dwalin and a near-smile by his stoic uncle. Fili returned it with a wide grin and bowed before his throne, “Good morning, my king,” His voice was thick with mirth and even a bit of a tease could be traced in his words.

Thorin cleared his throat and greeted him, “Fili, I was hoping you would come. Today is a day for celebration after all. We have much to do.” 

Fili rose casually with a smirk. Today was the fifth anniversary of the reclamation of Erebor. He noted Thorin look towards the doors as if he expected someone else to be trailing Fili’s wake. The prince and heir smiled warmly. Of course, given how closely Kili had once kept to him, why wouldn’t Thorin expect his presence? 

“Where is your brother?” 

“Who, Kili?” Fili laughed, “Who knows?”

“Well, I would hope someone was keen on finding out then.” Thorin huffed. “If he thinks he isn’t helping with preparations, he is as mad as Bifur.”

Fili simply laughed once more. All this mirth and easy peace in their lives was foreign just five short years ago. It was incredible to see how far they had come. “I’ll bring him here, Uncle,” Fili bowed. “That is, once I find him.”

* * * * * *

AN: Hope you liked it! Please Review and let me know! I've got more coming!


	2. Kili, The Wayward Prince

Fili’s war pig, Tusk, barreled down the old road that led away from the mountain and towards Laketown where he hoped to catch a Ferry to Mirkwood. It was indeed winter, so the earth was hard and the ground was iced. Tusk’s nostrils snorted cold air and Fili was reminded of a dragon pouring smoke from his maw.

Wrapped in thick furs, Fili drew towards the newly built town at a remarkable pace for a war pig with such stunted legs. He had gotten word that Kili had been about with the elves… again, and he wished his brother wouldn’t push his luck. Although there was peace between the dwarves and elves, it was tumultuous at best and the two races still butted heads time and again.

Not to mention that Thorin still disapproved of much interaction with the pointed eared race. Kili made good with the elves regardless of what Thorin said. In fact, he probably spent so much time with them precisely because Thorin had told him not to.

Fili managed to snag a transport large enough to accommodate Tusk and they rode across the Lake in near silence, for the ferryman was an old, gruff fellow who was not too keen on talking. With the matter of Elves on his mind, Fili’s thoughts drifted to Tauriel, Kili’s savior. He would have died without her healing, and Fili had noticed in Mirkwood, his connection to her. There had been something special between the two. He remembered their quiet conversation when they were being kept prisoner in the Elven halls. They had spoken softly, but Fili had heard them talk of stars and lights and stones.

When Tauriel fell in the Great Battle, a sadness had fallen over his brother, but time had helped to heal him and now, Kili remembered her through contact with others of her race. He fancied himself a kindred spirit towards them as they shared a love for life in general, not to mention their weapon of choice, the bow. Fili liked to think that Kili felt closer to Tauriel when he was amidst Tauriel’s kin.

Honestly, Fili was glad Kili had his elven friends, for Fili himself was often kept very busy. Though he did miss having his little brother always underfoot, he was becoming more independent. Fili was just glad he didn’t forget his family, for however often he went about, living a life of adventure and thrills, he always remembered to come home to his Uncle, brother, and mother.

After the ferry had landed, Fili mounted Tusk and trod towards the beginnings of Mirkwood. He didn’t get very far when he heard a great deal of laughing and joking. He looked towards the tree line with a happy smile and waved to get his brother’s attention.

Kili, upon a stout, black pony, Clip, he called it, came riding out of the woods, laughing at one of several elves that came out of the woods with him atop full-sized horses. They pranced around each other, trading mocking jokes or playful comments. They were all armed bow and quiver, and a few of them harbored swords of seemingly delicate craft. They did not notice Fili’s presence at first, but Kili’s keen eye caught sight of his brother’s wave and his eyes visibly brightened all the more – something that made Fili’s heart swell for fellowship towards his little brother.

“Brother!” Kili greeted enthusiastically as he rode up, sturdy dwarven bow in one hand and two quail in the other. His dark hair was disheveled as ever and his brown eyes were bright and cheery. He sported a new dark blue leather tunic with a beautiful silver belt and black trousers. And still, for some reason Fili could not grasp, his chin showed only stubble. Oh, his poor brother. He surely shall never marry. “What brings you here? Don’t you know that Elves kill dwarves first and ask questions later?”

The elves who had also gathered around him chuckled lightly at that, knowing full well of Thorin’s low tolerance of them, and also knowing the two brother’s relationship with the dwarf king.

Fili gave a little laugh in answer, a bit unnerved by how much taller the elven horses were than Tusk and Clip. “Yes, and I also heard, Kili, that quail, if eaten by dwarves, becomes a deadly poison when consumed. Face it, brother, these elves are out to get you one way or another.” Fili really tried to be comfortable and natural around the elves, for he knew that Kili trusted them, so he wished to trust them as well, for his brother’s sake, but Thorin’s stance on elves lingered in his mind also, so Fili was not perfectly loose and relaxed around the elves like Kili was.

Either way, his remark was answered with quails to the face and he was nearly unseated from Tusk as the birds were launched at his face by his little brother.

“What have you been up to, anyway, Kili?” Fili asked as he placed the quails in his pack.

“Hunting, of course,” Kili answered immediately. “You should have seen the deer we saw! As big as a horse, it was, with antlers like tree roots!” 

Havonin, the blond elf to Kili’s left atop a sandy colored horse nodded in agreement, “Indeed, twas a most beautiful sight, and I am sorry, Mellon, but I am very pleased that it escaped your arrow.”

“Ah, I was only halfway trying to hit it anyway.” Kili waved dismissively. “Besides, we only played at hunting for a bit anyway.”

Fili raised an eyebrow at this, “Oh, so what were you up to then?”

Peranior, an elf that Fili knew to be Havonin’s brother, answered, “We caught sight of some interesting tracks by the enchanted river.” Oh, Fili remembered that river, as he also recalled how miserable it was to carry the sleeping Bombour once he had fallen in. “They were like a horse’s, but lighter and softer, like a whisper upon the frozen ground. We were fortunate to have spotted them at all.”

Kili turned to his brother with a quietness about him, “We followed the trail, though we lost it a few times, but it led us all the way to what Havonin told me was a very deep, very old region of the wood. Brother, the tracks were like nothing we have encountered, not even in the Blue Mountains back home.”

A red-haired elven lad, Rodinfell, was his name, if Fili remembered correctly, an elf of grim countenance who spoke softly if he spoke at all, interjected with a sad expression, “We lost the trail where the wood is thickest and most wild. It saddens my heart, for I truly desired to see what creature we had discovered by chance, and now, we may never happen upon it again.”

“Come, now, Rodinfell, do not be so utterly grim,” spoke Peranior as he put a light hand on his friend’s unusually strong and muscular shoulder, “We shall see the creature yet, you shall see! We go to seek it out again this very night, I say!”

The other elves all agreed heartily, but Fili’s private look to his brother told Kili he would not be able to join the hunt. Kili huffed in disappointment, relishing the idea of a mysterious beast lurking the Mirkwood, but his duties as prince called him away, “I am sorry, friends, but my brother is probably here to collect me. I regret that I will not be able to come with you, but you must promise me to tell me of your findings when I return!”

“Very well, Mellon, safe travels to you!” They returned, and with that, the elven riders galloped back into their realm within the Mirkwood leaving Fili atop Tusk, and Kili astride Clip, together and alone in brotherly company. 

Kili turned Clip about towards the road Fili had come up on and turned a curious but knowing eye on his brother, “So, what does Thorin need?”

“How did you know Thorin wanted you at all!?” Fili asked as the two brothers spurred on their mounts and they trod slowly to the docks.

“Oh, come on, Fili, you never ride out to simply enjoy my company.” Kili drawled. “Well, not like we used to, anyhow.” Kili’s face grew a bit dark and his words were sad. He knew, of course that Fili was kept very busy by their demanding King and Uncle, but a busy prince was also poor company. The two brothers did not spend nearly as much time as they used to together, thus Kili struck out to find new friends to share his time with since Fili’s time was dedicated to other responsibilities. The youngest Durin knew he could not hold Fili’s duties against him, but he wished they could share more time together nonetheless.

Fili most definitely caught the sadness in his brother’s usually cheery tone and was surprised at himself when he almost released an angry response. Kili had hardly any responsibilities to speak of and led a life of luxury, doing as he pleased most of the time, like they did when they were younger. He could not understand the weight of the burden of heir upon Fili and the older brother almost resented his brother’s carefree livelihood. “Kili…”

“No, brother, I’m sorry. My words were ill-chosen. I know Thorin keeps you very busy. I cannot hold that against you. Still, I wish we could cause as much trouble around here as we did when we were little back in Ered Luin.”

Fili nodded solemnly with a tiny chuckle as he remembered fondly their many disastrous plans back in their old home. He looked upon his little brother and couldn’t believe how much he had changed. Without Fili with him to constantly shield him from things, he had been forced to grow up a bit, though he still retained a great deal of his usual mischievous and reckless self, qualities Fili was sure he would never outgrow. The quest had certainly changed him, and the wound he had suffered made him realize he was not as invulnerable as he had once thought. He was more independent now. As an older brother, this fact saddened Fili, for he watched his little brother grow, but it also heartened him to see him slowly become a very noble warrior. Fili was proud of the young dwarf before him.

“Kili, I will talk to Thorin about us, I promise. But I do not think you realize what today is.”

Kili only raised a dark eyebrow in response.

“It has been five years since we won back the Mountain. Today we are celebrating!”

Kili’s response surprised his older brother. His countenance grew dark and his shoulders slacked. “Yeah, five years since Tauriel died…”

“Kili,” Fili sighed, mentally punching himself for the slip, “You couldn’t have done anything to save her. Our enemies were too great, you know this.”

“That is what everyone says, but-”

“Besides, it is not as if she was the only person to lose her life that day, brother. Do not disrespect every other fallen warrior with your grief for a single woman. Today is not just a day of celebration, but also a day of remembrance. Their sacrifices led to the reclamation of Erebor! Do not belittle their deaths, Kili.”

Kili was taken aback by his brother’s words, not sure if he was to be angry or understanding of them, but he realized his brother was right. “Sorry, Fee, I just…”

“Yeah, I know Kee,” Fili hushed as they reverted to their old nicknames, as he put a comforting hand on his brother’s bowed shoulder, “I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There ya go :) Yeah, sorry Tauriel/Kili shippers. She's a goner in this world. And if you are wondering where Fili's war pig came from, (SPOILERS) there is an interview with the guy who plays Dain Ironfoot that explains that he arrives on a battle pig. Next Chapter introduces some other familiar characters! PLEASE REVIEW!


	3. Old Friends and New Acquaintances

“Good, I see you found him.” Thorin welcomed his nephews. Kili, much to Fili’s relief had calmed down and his mood had lightened a bit. Of course, a pit stop to say hello to their mother, Dis, helped his mood a great deal.

“Yes, Uncle,” Fili replied, “Now what was is that you wanted to see us for?”

Dwalin chuckled at Fili’s lack of ceremony and turned to await Thorin’s reply. “Very well, since you are in such a rush, I actually have some news that the both of you might enjoy.”

Kili’s eyebrow canted up at that, for Thorin did not usually discuss anything to do with having fun. 

“Well, don’t look so surprised,” Thorin scoffed, “If you must know, Bilbo sent word of his impending arrival to the celebrations.”

Fili and Kili’s eyes brightened immediately at the news of Bilbo. The hobbit usually made time to come to the mountain for the annual celebrations, but they have heard no word of him thus far for the year. “Bilbo’s coming?!” Kili input happily, “That’s great!”

“Yes, yes, honestly, I can’t believe he made the trip on his own. His letter said he should arrive this afternoon, so I wanted you to go meet up with him and escort him to Erebor. Both of you.” Thorin shook his head, “He could have at least requested our presence in his travels. It would have been safer.”

Dwalin agreed, only really minorly interested, “Aye, the lad almost died his last trek he made alone up here.”

Thorin nodded, “I remember. If Bofur and Bifur had not been nearby, things might have turned out very differently. But the hobbit insists.” Fili wasn’t exactly sure what instance they were talking about. Apparently, none of them had bothered to share.

Kili nearly jumped in excitement. And Fili was glad to see his brother in such high spirits. “We’ll go right away! Fee, grab that pig of yours and let’s hurry to meet him!” He grabbed at Fili’s furred sleeve and pulled him towards the door, and before Thorin could even properly dismiss them, the two brothers were off, with light hearts, for they finally had some time to spend together, even if it was on an errand.

So, they were on the road again that day, Fili on Tusk and Kili on Clip, his temperamental pony, and they rode, racing each other here, chatting happily there, and simply enjoying the other’s company. Fili felt their bond rekindle easily and it did his heart good to see that they still shared a special brotherly connection despite the time they spent apart. Their talks and easy teases were so normal, just like before the Quest and the Battle. The timelessness of their kindred spirits comforted him profoundly. 

So, on they went until their merry jaunt was pierced by the welcoming sound of a pony’s whinny. Fili and Kili urged their mounts forward in anticipation and as they rounded the bend, the dwarf princes saw Bilbo astride a little bay pony. Surprisingly, another horse walked beside him carrying a dark figure garbed in a dark green cloak. Fili could not see his eyes, but he chatted companionably with Bilbo, with a soft-spoken tone, as he smoked a finely crafted pipe.

“Ho, there, Bilbo!” Fili called out, while at the same moment, Kili called, “Mr. Boggins!”

Bilbo’s gaze sharply turned towards the brothers as he caught wind of Kili’s alternate moniker for him and he waved enthusiastically, surely recognizing the dwarven princes, “Fili! Kili! How very good it is to see you two! I do hope you are keeping out of trouble!” 

The stranger who rode beside the hobbit kept silent. 

“Bilbo, you should know better than that.” Fili said and Kili finished, “Trouble finds us without our help, trust me.”

“Ah, yes, of course.” Bilbo agreed. Fili thought he looked very well since last he saw him. Though, perhaps a bit rounder around his middle. He was a hobbit, after all.

“But, Bilbo, who is this who rides beside you? I was under the impression you were traveling alone.” Fili looked warily at the stranger unnerved by his quiet demeanor and hooded face.

“Oh! Where are my manners?” Bilbo replied, exasperated, “Well, I was until I came through Rivendell, of course, but then, my good friend, Ara- a, Estel, convinced me to let him come along. He is a good fellow, and has been a very good friend to me since I first met him five years ago on my return journey from Erebor, actually.”

“Indeed,” interjected Estel, who lifted his hood to reveal a young face. “Though, Estel I am only called amongst Elves.” The twenty-five year old puffed his pipe and blew out a near perfect smoke ring, “Some men call me Strider, though, I have not been amongst dwarves very much at all to be given any title by them.”

“Elves?” Kili asked curiously, “You are among them often then?”

Estel laughed at the young dwarf’s wide eyes. “Yes, master dwarf. In fact, I was raised by them in my childhood, and I often dwell among them still.”

Kili’s fascination grew tenfold by then and he quickly led Clip so he was riding side by side with the stranger, but Fili remained somewhat unconvinced, “Why then, if you are such good friends with our hobbit, do you go about hooded and cloaked like some vagabond? If you’ll excuse my description.”

Bilbo looked horrified by Fili’s inquiry and hurriedly asked Estel to forgive his brash young friend, but the man held up a calming hand and laughed, “Do not worry, my friend. I take no offense. I suppose I did deserve that, given my chosen apparel.”

“It is merely travel-worn,” Bilbo huffed, flustered, “Well-used, and I am surprised at you, Fili, given how we were dressed during our own journey. I do recall you in nothing but an old shabby tunic, trousers, and boots after we left the elves in Mirkwood. You have no place saying anything about what Estel wears. He is called Strider for a reason after all.”

Kili tried to smother a laugh towards Fili due to Bilbo’s sudden outburst and Fili sent his brother a rude gesture. “I meant nothing by it Bilbo.” To Estel he said, “I am sorry, though. If Bilbo trusts you, then I do as well. Come, let us lead you to Erebor, greatest of the dwarven strongholds.

“You are forgiven, master dwarf, and in explanation for my shabby dress, I can only say Bilbo is right. I travel very far and very often. I am a Ranger, you see.”

If the title of Ranger drew any recognition from Fili, he did not show it, and in fact, Rangers were not spoken of very often at all where Fili and Kili had lived as children, so they did not understand how queer and peculiar Rangers, as a rule, were. Fili only nodded, as if that cleared up everything, though in truth, he was still a bit suspicious of the man despite his polite demeanor. Kili, on the other hand, naïve, and trusting Kili, seemed completely won over by the man and began a conversation with him about his time amongst elves. When they began discussing Sindarin, the Elven tongue, Fili only sighed. 

Thorin would not approve.

While his brother was busy with the stranger, Fili matched Tusk’s pace with Bilbo’s bay as the hobbit listened quietly to his two friends connecting. “Bilbo?”

“Yes, Fili?” The hobbit asked contentedly, so very happy to be in the company of the most amicable dwarves he knew.

Fili shifted in his saddle and spoke softly, “Why did Estel wish to come along with you?”

Bilbo noted his cautious tone, as if he were afraid the hobbit would be offended by Fili’s disapproval, but he only smiled, “Fili, I would never have brought a complete stranger along with me to your Uncle’s Mountain. Estel is a very honorable man, I assure you. Put your mind at ease. And if you must know, as I already said, he enjoys traveling, so I welcomed the company. The road, you know, is very long when traveled alone.” Bilbo leaned over and whispered privately, “Just the same, he has an old friend here who lives within the Mirkwood. I’m sure you recall the son of King Thranduil? We encountered him when the spiders attacked, yes?”

Fili’s eyes widened at that. How did this ragged stranger come to be good friends of an elven prince? “Surely not, Bilbo!” Fili whispered, amazed.

Bilbo only readjusted his seating and smiled widely. “Indeed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please Review! I hope you are enjoying it! Thank you for reading! Feel free to post comments, or ideas! Thanks!


	4. Stirring in the Shadows

Estel rode with the group all the way to the ferry, where he put his pipe away and brought his mount about to face the other three, “Bilbo, my friend,” he began, then nodded at Fili and Kili as well, “Master Dwarves, I am afraid this is where I leave you. I trust your road is safe from here and you will reach the mountain soon enough.”

“Oh,” Kili breathed, trying to mask his disappointment, “You aren’t coming with us, then?”

“I would not neglect this chance to look upon your kingdom so rudely, Kili, but I am expected elsewhere. I am sorry, but there will come a day, sooner than we both might think, that I swear to you I will come and visit.” With that, Estel clasped wrists with the dark-haired dwarf and similarly traded such niceties with Fili and Bilbo. 

He spurred his horse onward back down the road from whence they came to disappear into the Mirkwood. “Farewell!” he called and his horse’s tail swished as if to wave a silent goodbye.

Fili, Kili, and Bilbo watched in a silence, which Bilbo soon broke, “I told you he was a good man.”

Fili huffed, and Kili laughed at his brother’s expense. 

“What does he plan to do in the woods?” Kili asked, “Hunt spiders?” The comment was a bit ironic, considering Kili was just out in the woods hunting earlier that very day, but his older brother said nothing of his younger brother’s logic.

“Oh, I certainly hope not!” cried Bilbo as chills ran through him, “I hope he never sees a giant spider as we did for as long as he lives!” 

Fili decided he would answer his little brother since it was apparent the hobbit was distracted by uncomfortable memories of Mirkwood and the “talking spiders,” as Bilbo had told it, but Fili never recalled those fowl beasts speaking in any tongue at all. “He is going to go meet Thranduil’s son, Kili,” Fili explained.

“Who, Legolas!?” Kili asked as his face squished in distaste, “But he is such a bore! He has no sense of humor at all! And he’s rude. You remember what he said about Gimli, don’t you?”

Fili let a barking laugh escape his lips, “Aye, Gloin would never let us forget. Honestly, Legolas hates dwarves as much as Thorin hates elves.”

Bilbo decided to join in on their conversation, “You know, I do think you are onto something there, Fili. Thorin and Legolas are alike… in a roundabout way, at least, aren’t they?”

The three friends sat there for a moment, each atop their perspective mounts, in utter silence mulling over Bilbo’s comment until Fili and Kili both, in unison, shivered at the very thought of comparing the two, and Bilbo coughed awkwardly.

“Well, yes, maybe we should speak of another matter then.”

“Yeah,” Fili agreed with a little clearing of his own throat, “Let’s not mention that little revelation to Thorin. Agreed?”

“Agreed!” Kili and Bilbo replied, a little too quickly.

 

* * *

 

Estel, or rather, Aragorn, son of Arathorn, had traveled to the Mirkwood before, but he had never gone through it alone. As he was indeed only twenty-five, he had left Elrond’s care in Rivendell seven, maybe eight years ago, and even then, he came back often because the Lady Arwen, dear, lovely Arwen Evenstar, always lingering in his thoughts, compelled him to return.

There was a time in Aragorn’s childhood, when Elrond had traveled to the Greenwood, as it was once called before the spiders encroached upon the forest and sickened it. 

Elladan and Elrohir, son’s to Elrond, but as close as blood brothers to Aragorn, had remained behind in Rivendell with their sister, to watch over the Last Homely House in the lord’s absence. Aragorn, as he recalled was originally supposed to remain behind as well, but he had miraculously convinced Elrond to allow the heir to accompany the Elven lord.

Elrond had come from Rivendell, the Lady Galadriel and Celeborn from Lorien, to meet with Thranduil of the Greenwood. A council of Elves, as it were, had been in place to discuss what, he knew not, for he had not been privy to such apparently important information at the time. 

No, not he. Rather, he was elsewhere in the Greenwood, frolicking about with none other than Legolas Greenleaf, prince of his realm. That trip had been his first encounter with the elven princeling and they had become immediate friends when the sun-haired elf had saved Aragorn from being skewered by a wild boar. 

The memory brought a fond smile to his face. He had been a teen at the time, no older than fifteen, and Legolas, an elf of nearly three thousand years, had taken the time to befriend a mortal boy such as himself. And thus far, that friendship had lasted. 

The Ranger liked to think that being heir to the throne of Gondor had nothing to do with the elf’s choice.

Aragorn let loose a resigned sigh as he looked upon the dankness of Mirkwood. He recalled a time when it seemed brighter and he silently cursed the evil of the world for daring to touch a once more joyful place. 

Inevitably, he was reminded of his role in one day combating such evil, but the thought honestly scared him. What if he failed? What if the darkness that was growing within the world proved too much and he himself succumbed to the Enemy? 

His troubling thoughts were interrupted by a rustle in the thick brush to his left. With warrior reflexes, he faced the sound while his hand simultaneously reached for the sword at his belt. At first, he thought himself a bit ridiculous. Many small creatures rummaged through the bushes, what had he to fear? But some other instinct, one that was birthed from his time in the wilderness, warned him, told him, differently.

He felt his heart thump against his chest as the presence, the lingering presence of the unnamed being did not lift. His horse snorted nervously and she pounded the damp earth beneath her hoof. 

Aragorn peered into the shaded brush, but even his keen eyes could only make out a ghost of a form, bestial and dark. His blood ran cold as his gaze met the thing and it emitted a low, murderous snarl, quiet, but terrifying. Though he could not see it from its place in the shadows, the keen Ranger sensed the tenseness in its limbs and knew it would strike soon. 

He had seen bears, wolves, and even wargs, but none of them had ever felt so very sinister.

The pressure mounted and the grip he held on his sword tightened as he prepared to draw it forth.

Only, the encounter Aragorn anticipated never came, for as the thing prepared its attack, a call, so sudden and unexpected rang out in a fine elven voice that both he and the unknown beast started violently. Then, Aragorn drew his blade so quickly he nearly unseated himself as he caught sight of the shadow dart off into the depths of the forest.

“Estel!” The voice was as clear as mountain streams and the air seemed to lighten as its bearer drew nigh.

Legolas, garbed in pleasant green clothing and armed with his bow and dual knives strapped across his back, was met with Aragorn, sword drawn and breathing heavily, sweat beading on his brow. “Estel?” the Elven prince asked the young man more cautiously, “What is it, Mellon?”

Aragorn, at first, said nothing. He only looked from the bushes to his left then to his friend with a blank expression upon his stubbled face.

“Estel?”

At last, it seemed that the shock of the moment had finally left him, the Ranger calmed enough to respond to his ancient friend, “I am sorry,” he breathed, sheathing his sword, “It is only that I saw something that disturbed me greatly in the woods.”

Legolas’s brow furrowed at that and he strode quickly to his friend’s side. He grabbed Estel’s saddle horn with one hand and shook it lightly as he also patted the horse’s strong neck with the other, “Estel, what is it that you saw that could alarm you so? Even with the boar you did not act as such.”

Aragorn looked upon his friend with a heavy gaze, his eyes piercing the fey folk’s blue orbs. “I have never encountered such a creature as the one I confronted today. I do not know the nature of it, Legolas.” He swallowed, “Only that it is evil.”

Legolas only nodded, but his eyes betrayed him, for they were wrought with thoughtful concern. “Come,” he said softly, taking the reins from Aragorn’s hands and pulling them over the horse’s head so he instead could lead the mare, “Let us get to my father’s hall. There we can further discuss this beast you saw.” The elf looked uneasily towards the shadowy brush all about them. “I do not wish to talk of such things here, lingering as we are with shadow all about us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There ya go! There is more Fili and Kili to come! Feel free to review or writer's block may take me! ;)


	5. A Lunch of Boots and Biscuits

“Sorry, lads,” the old ferryman apologized, “She’s taken a leak, and I can no’ send anyone across. And I surely can’t take your animals, to be certain.” 

“But we must get across!” Fili protested as he dismounted Tusk, “We are the princes of Erebor, and our honored friend, Master Baggins of the Shire!” 

The ferryman turned his attention back to the stout lion-haired dwarf before him, crossing his arms as he did so, and looked down upon Fili. He wrinkled his nose which made his wiry grey mustache cant not so very slightly to the side. “Well, then, your majesty,” he said with unmasked sarcasm. “Why don’t I just ask the boat to patch itself up, real quick-like, so it can bear such noble and mighty dwarves such as yourselves hence across the water?”

Fili couldn’t believe the venom laced in the man’s voice. If it wasn’t for himself and the rest of the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, there wouldn’t be a reason to ferry people across the lake at all! “Watch your tone, ferryman-” he began, and he proceeded to engage in a heated conversation with the man while Bilbo and Kili sat quietly behind them.

Bilbo sighed wistfully, “What a shame. It seems as though we are going to miss the celebrations after all.”

Kili merely let out a profound sigh as he pulled out one of his many arrows from the quiver on his back. He began to fiddle with its raven-feathered fletching. He knew the argument with the ferryman could take a while, so he made himself comfortable. Fili could argue with a mossy stone for hours and still not be pleased by the outcome. He was a lot like Thorin that way.

“I should have just stayed in the woods.” He grumbled, causing Bilbo to raise a stark eyebrow in the youngest prince’s direction. After all, that was not a very Durin-like thing to say in the slightest.

 

* * *

 

After an hour or so, Fili stormed back to Kili and Bilbo to find them a bit off the road and comfortably sitting on an old blanket that was stretched over the hard ground. It seemed as though they had eaten a fine meal without him. Bilbo was lounging comfortably across his pack, sleeping off his meal and Kili was attempting to light his pipe without burning his fingers, and failing, mind you. 

Upon seeing his brother, Kili greeted him with an overly enthusiastic, “Well, I take it you lost your pleasant conversation with the boatman?”

“The nerve of some people,” Fili grumbled to himself, ignoring his brother’s comment as he joined Kili on the blanket and raided Bilbo’s lunch he hadn’t put away. “He told me to take my royal arse and seat it on an orc’s spear! Can you believe it?” 

“Unbelievable!” Kili cried. “How could he be so cruel to the spear? I wouldn’t wish your arse upon anyone!” 

He was rewarded for his clever comment with a boot to the face.

“Yes,” Fili replied, trying to hide his pleasure at his perfect aim, “You would find this amusing, wouldn’t you? Considering you probably weren’t even planning on attending the celebration today anyway.” Despite his little brother’s lack of sympathy, his interactions with Kili helped his anger cool down.

“Not so!” Kili cried, mocking offense, “How could you think so little of me?”

“It’s easy to think little of you, little brother. Just ask your facial hair.”

Kili gasped. 

“Oh, wait…” Fili went on, enjoying tormenting his brother, “You don’t have any.” He grinned smugly, all thoughts of the ferryman thrown from his mind. He sat stroking his braids on his face pointedly.

“You are cruel, did you know that?” Kili asked as he put his newly lit pipe to his lips.

“Yes. Yes I do.” Fili laughed. “Now give me back my boot!”

He shouldn’t have said anything, because his boot was launched back towards him. He forgot Kili had a very good arm. Amazingly, he ducked just in time and the boot went hurling past him. However…

It did slam into a certain napping hobbit’s stomach in full dwarven force.

“Oof!” Bilbo wheezed as he was so unpleasantly awoken. “What an Earth?!”

He needn’t have bothered for any sort of response, because Kili had fallen over backward in laughter, hugging his sides, and Fili had his fist stuck in his mouth, trying not to die of laughter.

“Oh, well, go on then,” Bilbo grumped, nonplussed as he rubbed his mistreated stomach, “It is always interesting going anywhere with the two of you, isn’t it? Always causing mischief.”

“Naturally.” Fili answered, seeing as Kili couldn’t. Laughter still held him captive.

“Oh, stop it! Will you?” Bilbo scolded, “It really isn’t funny. I was dreaming of those Eagles again and now you’ve gone and ruined it.” He stood and began packing up his food. He saw Fili with one of his biscuits and snatched it away from the dwarf prince.

“Oh, Bilbo…” Kili breathed, calming down, “It, it …really was funny.”

“Fili,” Bilbo addressed, “Did you negotiate anything with the ferryman?”

“No, afraid not,” Fili replied, frowning a bit. “I suppose we need to find another way across.” He stood up then, retrieved his boot and looked towards the water. “If only Bard and his barge were here. He’d give us a lift.”

“Oh, Durin, no!” Kili adamantly disagreed, “I will not ride across that lake in a barrel full of stinking fish ever again for as long as I live!”

“Kili,” his brother groaned. “You forget that we wouldn’t be going across as fugitives this time. That means no fish.”

Kili just stared at him, “Oh. Yeah, right.” Then his face brightened as an idea suddenly sprung at him, “Oh, Fili! We could ride barrels across like we did in Mirkwood!” He patted Fili’s arm in excitement, “Remember? It was so much fun!” The Durin prince paused, his face turning serious in a split second as he added slowly, “Or, I suppose it would’ve been if I hadn’t been stuck with that shaft.” His smiled returned in an instant, “But that is beside the point. What do ya think?”

Bilbo smiled helplessly and shrugged when Fili looked to him in exasperation. “Oh? It might have been a good idea, but where do you suppose we’d get a current from? That is the only way it had worked in Mirkwood.” He playfully hit his little brother in the back of the head, but Kili was not finished yet.

“I wonder if the Eagles could give us a lift.”

“Ha!” Fili laughed, “I wouldn’t bet your bow on it, brother.”

“Well,” Kili crossed his arms in irritation, “If you are so willing to brush off my ideas, then what might your royal arse suggest?” Kili smiled devilishly.

Fili only shook his head, trying to ignore Kili’s reference to the ferryman. “Honestly, I’m not quite sure.”

Bilbo looked over at the ponies and Fili’s war pig, a gift from Dain after the Battle, “Well, did you at least find out when the ship should be repaired?”

“Yes,” Fili replied, happy for an actual productive question for once, “Though the ferryman said he could get it patched up by the end of the day, he told me it would be too dark to navigate the water by the time he would be ready to send us over.”

“So,” Bilbo nodded, “we need a place to stay then, to feed the ponies and your monster pig over there, and to get a proper meal in for ourselves. But where to go?”

“Oh, I know!” Kili interjected much to Fili’s horror.

“No, Kili, we really don’t want to know. And we aren’t considering lodging in a troll cave somewhere if that is what you were going to say.”

Kili looked offended, “Why would you think I was going to say that? That’s stupid.”

“Apologies, then.” Fili sighed. He waved a hand, signaling Kili to continue, “Please, brother, by all means, enlighten us.”

“What I was going to suggest is, why don’t we just go to the elves?”

If Fili were drinking something just then, he surely would have choked on it. “You can’t be serious. I take it back, a troll cave sounds heavenly.”

“For you, maybe!” Bilbo squeaked. “Anything would go for you barbarians. But Fili, Kili is right.” Those words were odd to hear, even to Bilbo. “Yes, he is right. Relations with Thorin and Thranduil haven’t been all bad lately, so I’ve heard. He should grant us entrance. They have fine food, and we could contact Thorin with one of their birds. Not to mention the fact that they have exquisite stables.”

“How do you know they have stables and birds?” Fili asked, amazed.

“You forget. I was not held prisoner there like you were.” Bilbo smugly straightened his coat, “I had a great deal of time about the place as I looked for a way for the likes of you to get out safely.”

“Fine! Fine,” Fili huffed, defeated and lacking better options, “To the elves we shall go then.” 

Thorin was going to murder him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There y'all go! Fili and Kili brotherhood abounds! Tell me what ya think!


	6. Unhappy Happenings

The three friends arrived at the Halls of the Woodland Realm as the sun was fastly fading. Night fell upon the earth early in the winter months, and already, darkness reached out to ensnare the daylight until tomorrow morn. The sun retreated to its place of rest across the sky and its slow decent fought the darkness in a silent battle of golds and deep purples as an early twilight took hold.

A foursome of guards in fine elven armor, armed with both bow and blade, stood posted at the entrance. The massive, beautifully crafted doors, deceptively delicate, but incredibly durable, were shut tight, apparently closed until the sun once again graced the horizon.

As Fili, Kili, and Bilbo arrived at the gate, two of the four guards approached them, barring their way. The taller of the two, an elf of brown hair which was woven expertly in beautifully intricate braids, was the first to speak. His silver armor shone brilliantly in the last fading tendrils of sunlight, “You are nearing the kingdom of King Thranduil of the Mirkwood. Name yourselves and reveal your purpose here.”

At least he was kind enough to speak Westron, Fili thought to himself.

The lion-haired dwarf looked to his little brother expectantly. Fili knew Kili was by far more sociable than he when it came to elves and he trusted Kili to handle the exchange well enough. Besides – this had been Kili’s idea in the first place. Kili nodded, fully understanding what his brother’s look had implied. 

The youngest Durin cleared his throat as his little pony shifted its weight. He sat up a little straighter in his saddle and puffed out his chest ever-so-slightly, for he was very thin for a dwarf, after all. “We are Fili and Kili, sons of Dis, heirs to the Throne of Erebor.” Kili stated his title as if he were reciting a litany, and indeed, he was accustomed to naming himself as such many times during his young life.

He then gestured to his hobbit friend astride his bay pony. “And this is Master Bilbo Baggins of the Shire, good ally and friend to us.” Kili was careful not to use Bilbo’s alternate moniker, ‘Boggins,’ that Kili had jokingly kept for the hobbit after he had accidentally butchered his name during their initial introductions back at Bag End.

The Elf only stared at the young prince, and with a start, Kili then realized he had only answered half the question. “Oh! Yes, well,” He coughed uncomfortably.

Fili mentally face-palmed and Bilbo’s ears turned red.

“You see, we cannot get back to the Mountain. The ferry is damaged and can bring no soul across the lake. We were hoping, if you wouldn’t mind, that is, if-”

“You said you were the heirs to the throne of Erebor?”

Kili paused for a moment, caught off guard by the interruption. “Yes, I did, but I hardly see how that’s relevant.”

“It is entirely relevant!” The elf cried in an angry outburst. “I know your line! You are the nephews of Thorin Oakenshield, yes? How dare you ask us favors when it was for you and that accursed mountain that we elves shed our blood! Elves shed, and wasted blood for that mountain of death. Elves! We who were meant to live generations past you, your sons, and your great grandson’s sons thereafter!” The guard’s voice turned dark and dangerous. His words were soft, but clear, “What say you of that? What say you of our sacrificed kin for the sake of your own gain?”

“Sîdh, Mikelverial! Sîdh!” A guard from the gate rushed up and placed a calming hand on his fellow guardsman’s plated shoulder. The other unnamed elves did not speak, but led Mikelverial back towards the gates.

“I am sorry,” he spoke. His voice was gentle, like leaves being tickled by a soft breeze, and his face was soft and bright. Blue eyes penetrated his light helm and near-white hair flowed from the metal rim. “You must forgive him. Mikelverial lost his twin brother, Miaderian in that conflict. Five years is not long in the eyes of our kin and the wound is still fresh. Where your kin, as we speak, see celebration, we are reminded of our loss.”

Kili said nothing. In fact, faced with Mikelverial’s accusations, the archer had been greatly wounded. The elf spoke as if the dwarves did not care about what had happened that day, what the immortal elves had sacrificed on that bloody battlefield. He could not have been more wrong. The selflessness of the great immortal elves was not lost on him. How could it have been? Tauriel had died as well. The elves were not the only ones to have experienced great loss.

Fili immediately noted the change of demeanor in his brother’s posture. He knew Kili’s thoughts had returned to that elven lass, Tauriel, and a bought of anger nearly took him in defense of his brother, but he stayed his tongue, as he knew not what to say at that moment. Bilbo too, said nothing.

The fair-haired elf waited a moment, gauging each of the visitors, and he continued with an apologetic air, “You must understand, my lords. There are warring views within this kingdom. Some of us believe the price for peace was a necessary one, but some… resent the King’s decision.”

Fili nodded and the elf went on. “I know you came here for aid, and I am deeply sorry, but for reasons such as what you have just seen, I think it unwise to allow any dwarf, regardless of stature, to enter here.” Fili looked to Kili, but Kili’s head was still hung heavily in deep thoughts, and he did not respond to his brother’s gaze. 

So Fili turned back to the armored elf before him and was surprised to find that he actually saw a great deal of sincerity in his blue orbs, as if he were really, truly sorry for their misfortune. “You may camp alongside the path anywhere you please. I will have blankets and stakes brought out so you may sleep comfortably. If you need anything, ask for me. I am Fallendriel.”

Fili thanked him and the two clasped wrists. It was an odd thing for the heir of Durin. Until that moment, he had never shared such a peaceful gesture with the fey folk. It truly did make him stop and think about things. 

He was reminded of when he was forced to choose between Thorin and his own brother at Laketown and how he had chosen Kili in an instant. He had to wonder, would he have to do the same regarding Thorin and his hatred for elves? Was his Uncle wrong, or was Kili’s influence convincing him otherwise?

“Oh, Master Dwarf?” Fallendriel called as the three started to turn around, “I advise you to stay close to the path and do not stray too far into the forest. There has been rumor of something lurking within the shadows of late and I do not trust this wood as I once did. Sleep with a fire lit.”

Bilbo shared a concerned look with Fili at his ominous words, but Kili did not acknowledge the warning at all. Anger festered within the archer. Fili could see it in his dark, brown eyes. He just needed some time to think for a bit. 

Their beasts’ hooves touched down upon the carved stone bridge that led back to the path. It was the very bride they were corralled down during their first visit as prisoners. Dead leaves swirled about them as a chilled breeze blew past them and the weather immediately grew chillier.

Kili’s head shot up and he peered carefully into the darkness of the road beyond the bridge. He stopped Clip dead in his tracks.

Kili’s quick actions garnered an alarmed response from his brother, and even Bilbo was inclined to draw Sting. It was not glowing.

“Did you hear that?” the archer asked in a whisper.

Fili’s eyes darted between the empty road to his brother’s unwavering gaze, “Kili, what is it? I hear nothing.” 

Kili did not bother to reply, but Fili did not have to wait long for an answer. From the shadows of the road, he too heard it: the fainted sound of hooves striking the cobbled path, galloping towards them at an alarming rate growing all the louder as the riders drew nigh. His initial reaction was to tense and prepare to defend himself, but he did not.

Appearing as wraiths in the darkness of night, three pale horses emerged from the depths of the woods and into the firelight of the gateway. One was riderless, its golden bridle hung loose and the sculpted saddle bore no one.

Fili heard Kili gasp in recognition and then again in worry and fear. The elves at the gate were thrown into a panic. A pair of them rushed to get the gates open and the others went to the three horses. For the other two horses bore two familiar elves and the third rider. 

Havonin and Peranior were upon separate shining steeds, but Havonin, the elder brother, shared his saddle. There in front of him, cradled safely between Havonin’s arms and the horse’s neck, sat Rodinfell, limp and pale. His green and gold tunic was torn and bloodied and his head lolled as Havonin rode. His red hair grimly complemented the blood that traced his skin.

“Gurth! Gurth!” Peranior cried, “Death stalks those woods!”

“Oh, Mellon,” Havonin pleaded quietly into Rodinfell’s torn ear, “Please, do not fade. Do not fade away from us.” He put his finger up to Rodinfell’s lips and was heartened to feel that he still drew breath, if only barely.

Quickly, in all the chaos of that panicked moment, the elves escorted the three hunters into the Halls of the Woodland Realm, and Fallendriel was sure to slip Fili, Kili, and Bilbo inside as well, so they too would not fall victim to the beast that stalked the Mirkwood.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Poor Rodinfell! BTW: I may not own Middle Earth, but those elves are all mine! Some Notes: Westron is the common tongue in Middle Earth. / Gurth: Death in Elvish / Sidh: Peace :) (If I'm wrong, let me know :)) Please keep those reviews coming! They are very muchly appreciated! Praises, critiques, or suggestions! Thanks :)


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